So I've been staring at my blog for quite some time now thinking of writing something and realize I don't have any idea what to write about. So I did a google search for "what bloggers blog about" and clicked on this link. It was an interesting read. Here's a quote that struck the nerve:

In the last month I’ve seen a few blogs stumble. Some have disappeared altogether, others are are still kicking about but are updated infrequently, which ultimately is just the same as if they had ceased to exist.

There were reasons stated as commonly given by bloggers that stopped blogging. I would've said it was because of writer's block but thinking more about it, it's more of a motivation thing. So how do you motivate yourself to blog? Why even bother to blog at all? Let's take the economic route first. If you bought a domain and subscribed to a hosting service, then you should be blogging about something. Blog about your host. Blog about how cool your domain is. Blog about how much traffic (or lack of it) you get each day. Why do all those things? Because you paid someone to show your whatever you want to show, of course, as long as it's allowed by the TOS. So you can't show porn pics, excessive violence, etc. that goes against the TOS. But still, you're already shelling out moolah that should've been for more important matters. Just simply get what you pay for, and more if you can. Because $20 a month is steep. Luckily for me, I found a hosting service that provides very cheap hosting service bundled with a couple of domains already. I get the same features at a quarter of the cost I used to have. Talk about being cost-efficient. Now let's try to answer the above question using a philosophical point of view. I blog because I love to blog. Well, if this statement still holds true, then why am I having difficulty blogging about anything. Is it getting personal already? No. Not in the least bit. Do I love blogging as much as I love hotdogs? Heck, nothing is better than a hotdog. Except sex. Sometimes. Nevermind. Let's test this statement: "I think therefore I am." I think I'm gonna puke, therefore I am gonna puke. I think I'm gonna blog, therefore I am gonna blog...later...I think... Then there's the social aspect of blogging. I have an obligation to my readers to post something interesting. Wait. Readers?! What readers?! Oh yeah. The readers whom constantly visit my blog and read my posts, metadata, keywords, etc. My readers like Google robot, MSN robot, Alexa robot, Yahoo robot, and Ask Jeeves robot. Don't forget the robot with an obscure sounding name, like Bob. Yeah, I have an obligation to my robots, I mean readers. Then there's also the reason of making money out of blogging. Being a professional blogger is great. You don't have a boss. In fact, you are your own boss. You hold your own hours. No one bugging you about deadlines. But there's also a downside to this. You have to continually post new material, and reply to every single commenter that it takes you 23 hours a day to finish all these tasks. You're gonna have to sacrifice the social life outside your room and confine yourself in the world you call "the den." And what if, God forbid, one day, your visitors stopped visiting you just because they don't want to go to your site anymore and they are sick and tired of your whining and gormless prattle. What would happen to your income-generating traffic? I think I'd rather be a corporate drone and live like the rest of the non-professional bloggers. It's not bad being a statistic. We are all statistics, anyway. I am reminded of the movie "Finding Forrester." "If you want to write, then write. Thinking comes after." Also of Stephen King's book, "On Writing." It showed me that writing is the same as doing Magic. There is a room. A couch sat in the corner of the room. In the middle of the room is a small, round table. In the middle of that table is a white cup sitting on a saucer. The cup is filled to the brim of tea, steaming fresh. Footsteps, dragged but certain, approach the small, rounded table. The man ponders how many cubes of sugar he should put in, and suddenly, he realizes he is not alone. He then says aloud, "Welcome my friends. I wasn't expecting you. Let me get some more cups of tea so we can share some stories while you're here." If you can see that cup of tea, almost taste the freshness of it, then I've done my job of teleporting you to the room where I would meet my visitors. It simply is, magic. So is there really an answer to my previous question?